


Australia vs Brazil (Round One)

by Formula_Tea



Series: Dan should not baby sit [10]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Cricket, Football
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-30 02:15:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3919057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Formula_Tea/pseuds/Formula_Tea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felipinho is bored. Dan is just as bored, waiting for his car to be ready before practice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Australia vs Brazil (Round One)

**Author's Note:**

> I do believe this is the tenth fic in the Dan Should Not Baby Sit series. I think that deserves cake. Yay!  
> I also know very little about cricket, so... Yeah. And sorry it's very dialog heavy.

“Oops.”

Dan looked at the piece of plastic that had just come off in his hand, then around to see if anybody else had spotted him _break_ the garage. When he tried to fix what he’d done, he only managed to make things worse.

“Dan, Dan just stop,” Christian said, hurrying over. “Why don’t you… go and play somewhere else?”

He nodded to the garage next door, where a very bored looking five year old was currently having lunch with his dolls.

“When’s the car going to be ready?” Dan asked.

Christian pulled a face and held out his hands. “No idea.”

“Fine,” Dan said. “But call me back straight away, yeah? It’d be good to actually make it out today.”

 

“Do you want some more sandwich Neymar? _I would like some please Felipinho._ Leo, you have already had lots and lots of sandwich.”

Felipinho’s smile faded as he looked around the garage. He was _bored_. Mummy was talking to Emilia and everyone else was busy. Maybe it would be more interesting when the actual race was on but now he was bored.

“Hey?”

Felipinho’s head shot up at the sound of the familiar sound and a grin that would almost challenge that of the owner of the voice stretched his face.

“Dan!”

A couple of the Williams mechanics looked around, surprised to see the Red Bull driver in their garage. Felipinho had jumped up and was racing across to greet his friend before anybody could stop him.

“Guess where I went to, Dan!” Felipinho cried, pulling Dan over to where he had been eating his lunch. He’d already excitedly told everybody in the Williams garage where he’d been and the excitement had died down a little. He was glad he’d found someone else to share it with.

“I don’t know. The moon?”

“No, silly,” Felipinho said, grinning. “I went to Camp Nou!”

“Oh, wow!” Dan said, as if he had any idea what that was. Whatever it was, Felipinho was excited about it, so he guessed it was a good thing. “That’s cool.”

“It was the bestest day ever,” Felipinho said. “I got to meet _all_ the players. _Even Neymar_. And they signed my t-shirt and I was going to wear it today but Papa wouldn’t let me because he says it will get dirty.”

“Ooh,” Dan said, realising what Felipinho was talking about. He’d seen the pictures online the day before. Suddenly he understood all the excitement. “Is Neymar your favourite then?”

“Uh huh,” Felipinho said. “Because he is the best. And he’s from Brazil, like me. _And_ he even wrote me a letter.”

“Did he now?” Dan said. He couldn’t help but laugh at how excited Felipinho was getting. “That must mean he’s the best then, yeah?”

“I’m going to be a footballer when I’m a grown up,” Felipinho said. “Neymar says when I am ten, I will be even bigger than Messi and then I can be on a football team with him.”

“Did he?” Dan asked. He was beginning to understand why Felipinho liked this guy. The five year old beamed up at him and nodded quickly. “Well, you better get practicing.”

“Uh huh,” Felipinho said. He jumped up again, grabbing hold of Dan’s hand. “Will you come and practice with me, Dan? I have my football. Mummy? Can I go and play football with Dan?”

Raffaela looked over from where she was still chatting with Emilia and nodded, smiling a thanks at Dan. Dan gave her a confused smile back and, before he knew it, he was being dragged out into the paddock.

“You have to be the goal keeper, alright?” Felipinho said.

“I won’t be very good,” Dan said. “I don’t play football very much.”

“You don’t?” Felipinho said, as if that was the most horrific thing he could imagine anybody saying. “Why not?”

Dan shrugged. “They don’t play football very much where I’m from.”

Felipinho’s eyes widened, even more horrified. “Where I am from, you _have_ to play football,” he said. “It is the rules. It is the _law_.”

“We don’t play football in Australia,” Dan said, laughing at the look on the little boy’s face. “We play cricket instead.”

“Cricket?” Felipinho asked. He’d never heard of cricket. “What’s cricket?”

“It’s a game,” Dan said. “You have a ball – it’s littler than a football, like _this_ big. And you bowl it at a bats man and he tries to hit it.”

Felipinho just looked even more confused. “Batman?”

“No, a _bats_ man,” Dan said. “Somebody holding a cricket bat. Like a baseball bat, only different.”

“No kicking?” Felipinho asked.

“Nope,” Dan said.

“Sounds boring,” Felipinho said, wrinkling his nose.

“It isn’t,” Dan said. “You should ask your uncle Rob about it. Just as long as you don’t mention the Ashes.”

“Ashes?”

“Yeah,” Dan said. “It’s a big cricket competition between Australia and England. And England always lose.”

A mischievous grin appeared on Felipinho’s face. “England always lose in the football too.”

“I know,” Dan said. “They’re not very good at sports.”

“Can Brazilians play cricket?” Felipinho asked.

“I guess so,” Dan said. “Not in the Ashes but in normal cricket.”

“Will you teach me?” Felipinho asked.

“I’ll tell you what,” Dan said. “Next time you come to a race, I’ll teach you how to play cricket. On one condition.”

“What?”

“You have to call me Uncle Dan, alright?”

Felipinho grinned and nodded. “Can teach you how to play football now, Uncle Dan?”

Dan grinned and let himself be positioned in the makeshift goal.


End file.
